


Five Black and Gold Rings

by beccaelizabeth



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: 1970s, 5 Things, M/M, Ripper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-10
Updated: 2004-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccaelizabeth/pseuds/beccaelizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things that never happened to the ring Giles wears.  5 different stages of his life, family, and Ethan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Black and Gold Rings

1\. Grandma

Grandma Giles wore only one ring. Rupert noticed this specifically, because Mummy always wore many more. Mummy had an engagement ring and a wedding ring, which she never took off, and then ones on other fingers, that changed to match her clothes. Grandma Giles didn't ever match, or dress anything like Mummy. She wore a tweed jacket, and the elbows were patched. She also wore trousers, and 'sensible' shoes.

"What makes them sensible?" Rupert asked one time she called them that.

"These are shoes with options, my boy. They can do everything I can do. In these shoes I could run away, or stand and fight, or kick a vampire where it hurts."

Rupert's eyes went wide. "You never!"

"I have." she assured him solemnly. "Would you like me to show you how?"

Rupert didn't get to kick a vampire that day, but they did kick a rugby ball. Grandma Giles could get it to fly right between the posts, like it was supposed to. Rupert still rather tended to miss. The ball even, sometimes. But he was very small.

One day when they were done outside and Rupert was eating cake right in the kitchen, he asked about her ring. "Is it a wedding ring?"

"Not exactly. I took that one off when my Arthur died. But it is something that says I have made a vow. This is the ring I got when I first became a Watcher. Before I spoke the words, but when I meant them in my heart. You see I got this ring from **my** Watcher, when I was very young."

"Young like me?"

"A bit older than you. About ten years older."

Privately Rupert thought that wasn't very young at all. He was only six. Only the big kids were even ten. Ten years older was... well, grown up. To think that was young she would have to be **ancient**. "How older are you now?"

Grandma Giles laughed. "Older enough." And seemed to leave the story there. Rupert stayed quiet for all of three seconds. This was important.

"So you were a Watcher like Daddy?"

"Your father grew up to follow me, yes."

"And you got the ring from your daddy?"

"No, child. My father sent me to stay with another man when I was about the same age as you, someone who was going to teach me. I only saw my father on holidays. My Watcher was the one that raised me."

"Like going away to school?"

"Exactly like, except I was the only pupil."

"That would be lonely."

"Sometimes it was. But they told me I might be Chosen, you see. That one day a power might come to me, and I'd be the fastest, strongest girl alive."

"Is that why you kick so good?"

"Kick so **well**, dear." she corrected absently, handing him a napkin now he had cleared his plate.

Rupert made a cursory attempt to wipe the crumbs off himself, but he was mostly concentrating on the story.

"Well?" he asked, agog with curiosity.

Grandma smiled. "No, dear. That's just practice. The power never came to me. But the training wasn't for nothing. I was worried it would be. On the day we heard the next girl called was younger than I was, I thought that was the end. I even cried, a little. But my Watcher found me, and he said they'd never waste such a dedicated student. He said it would take more time, and extra learning, but one day I could be a Watcher, just like him. And he gave me this." She held out her hand so he could see the ring more clearly. The stone in it was square, and black, and the band was gold. "It's a blank slate, you see, ready for chalk and study. And the gold shows how precious it is, to know. And that was when I knew. I wasn't going to wait for one day. I was a Watcher, now and always. Because I knew what was out there, and I'd never stand by and let it get to people. I would protect the world, whatever it takes."

Rupert reached out, slightly awed, and touched the ring lightly.

"Can I be a Watcher, one day?" he asked quietly.

Grandma Giles smiled. "We'll see."

When Mummy came to take Rupert home again he tried to tell her everything they'd done that day, all at once. About vampires, and protecting the world, and how he was going to be a Watcher one day. But when she heard all that Mummy gave Grandma Giles a Look. The kind of Look Rupert usually earned when he'd knocked over something expensive.

"He's just a little boy. Let him be one while he has time." Mummy said. Rupert couldn't make any sense of that at all.

But next time he visited, Grandma wouldn't tell him the ring story again, and somehow the topic of him being a Watcher faded away. She taught him more sports instead, or told him what to look for in a good sword.

Then there was a time when he visited less, and Grandma didn't kick things any more.

"But Grandma Giles, I've been practicing! Please?"

"Dear child, I'm afraid the only thing I'll be kicking soon is the bucket." Grandma Giles smiled to him.

Rupert wanted to ask her what she meant, but Mummy said "Hush now! Don't go scaring the boy. You'll be fine."

Having been told he should be scared, now Rupert was, a little bit. But Mummy said Grandma would be fine. So that was okay.

Only she never was.

The funeral was very strange. Grandma Giles was the first person Rupert knew who had died. He'd sort of known what death was, from stories, where the wicked witch got burned up, or the brave knight killed his enemies in battle. But he hadn't really known, not outside of stories. And he hadn't really thought about it happening to good people too.

After the funeral kept on being strange. Now they owned everything Grandma Giles had, which was a lot. Books and swords and any number of things Rupert wasn't allowed to touch yet. And her little house, with the big garden. Except Mummy explained they were selling that, and their own house, and using all the money to move somewhere big.

It felt like they were leaving everything behind, and forgetting her.

So Rupert decided to stay.

While Mummy and Dad were supervising and packing the boxes to take out to the van, Rupert found himself a good hiding place. It was up under the roof, in the dark, in a little space that used to have a clutter of strange Grandma things in it but was empty now, like the rest of the house. Unlike the rest of it Rupert hadn't been up here with Grandma, so it felt less awful to be here alone. He settled in and started to think about her.

When it started getting dark outside it was supposed to be time to go. But Rupert didn't move. He stayed where he was when Mummy started calling for him. He felt quite sure she wouldn't find him here. It wasn't her kind of place at all, dark and dusty and awkward. But he'd forgotten about Dad. A while after they'd stopped calling for him, he heard a clunk and a creak, and the hatch in the ceiling below came up. Dad started to climb in, then realised there really wasn't room, and leaned instead.

"Hello there."

Rupert stayed quiet, and looked away. He didn't really know what to say to Dad at the best of times. He was so often away. And now he was here, and things were strange, and what was right to say anyway?

Dad gave him a moment, then looked around the place and sadly smiled. "I remember this place. Of course, I remember it bigger. I haven't been up here since Mama filled it, back when I was about your age. No one quite like your Grandma for filling a space. Seems like she'd just walk into a room and suddenly every corner would have something of her in it."

That was Grandma, all right. Rupert sniffed. But he wasn't crying. Really. It was the dust.

"I remember playing football in the garden, with Mama. And her teaching me how to shoot. She wasn't like anyone else's mother, no one I'd met then. It was just her and me, and I never really missed Arthur. I was sad that Mama was lonely, but she was enough for me. I keep looking around this old place and I still half expect to see her. Like she's just gone for a walk."

Rupert sniffed again. "She used to take me on walks in the woods. She'd show me all the tracks of things, and the mushrooms, and the plants. She knew **everything**."

"That she did. Or how to look it up." Dad smiled that half sad smile again, then slowly reached out to him. Rupert held still for only a moment, then dived across the space and let his Dad hug him.

"It's all wrong, Dad. She can't be gone. She knew all the good stuff, and she hadn't **told** me, and... Grandma can't be gone."

Dad just held him, and Rupert couldn't pretend it was the dust now, he was just crying. But Dad didn't tell him off. In fact, he was maybe crying, too.

"I know, son. I know. She told us so much and it feels like hardly anything. But she really is gone."

"But... We're going. From her. From her place." Rupert said miserably.

Dad leaned back so he could look him in the eyes. "Rupert... We're not leaving her. I promise you. When people die, they move on. They have a better place to live than you or I can imagine. They don't need this old place any more. Grandma is gone, from this house, from this life. But there are parts of her that live on- me and you. And we do need a place to live. Somewhere a bit bigger than this." Dad waved his arm around the roof space, only he had to wave small, because there wasn't really room to stretch out big.

Rupert could kind of see his point. But he still had to say, "I like it here."

"I do too. But we can't stay. We need a bigger place. There's me and you, and Mummy, and in a while there might be a girl come to stay with us. And we'll need a training room. We can't really shoot crossbows in the dining room. Well," Dad amended, looking just a bit like mischief, "I suppose we could, but it would be a bit hard on the crockery."

That was kind of funny, but it was the other part that got Rupert's attention. "This girl, is she going to be like Grandma? When she was little, and went to live with her Watcher?"

Dad nodded solemnly. "It might not happen for a while. Probably not for years. By then you might be away at school. But yes, I would be her Watcher. Do you see now, how Grandma would have wanted it this way?"

Rupert had to think about that. He thought for what seemed to him a very long time, then let out a big sigh. "Grandma Giles was a Watcher, like her Watcher, and you've got to be a Watcher. Yes. I see that. I just... I'm going to miss her."

"Me too. I always thought I'd be able to ask... Well, she said when I moved out she'd been sure to teach me the important things. I guess if she knows everything she'd know what those are." Dad sighed, mostly to himself. He seemed far away for a moment, then looked around the again. "So. Rupert. Ready to say goodbye to the old place?"

He sniffed, and felt very small. What he really wanted to say was 'no', but Dad was waiting for him to say 'yes'. So... "Maybe." In a very little voice. "I... I just... If we could be near her..."

Dad looked at him for a long moment, and Rupert looked down. He was disappointing him, he was sure, and he never wanted to do that. But then Dad put a finger under his chin, and tilted his head up. And when Rupert looked at his face again, all he saw was understanding.

Dad put a hand in his pocket, hesitated, then pulled something out, hidden in his palm.

"I was going to keep this a while, until you were a bit bigger. But I see now your Grandma was right. As usual." He half grinned. Then he opened his hand and showed Rupert what he was holding.

The ring. Grandma's ring.

"This ring was the only thing I can remember mama ever wearing, by way of jewellery. It meant a lot to her. Her Watcher gave it to her, and when I was small I thought some day it might come to me. But I'm a Watcher already, so I suppose I don't need it. So she left it to you."

Rupert reached out slowly, until he was just touching the ring. He looked up at his Dad again, quickly. "For me? Just... really?"

"Yes. Go on. Take it."

Rupert picked it up carefully, turned it around, looked at it closely. He remembered it on Grandma's hand, but he'd never seen it like this before, empty. It seemed wrong. He tried to put it on like Grandma wore it, on his ring finger, but it was huge. So he slid it instead onto his thumb. It was still wobbly, but he tucked his thumb into his fist and held it firm that way.

"We'll get you a chain for it, if you want to wear it."

"I will. I mean... I'd like that, Dad. This was... her. All the important bits."

"Yes. She'd be glad you know that, son. As long as you understand what's important in this world, you'll make her proud."

Rupert smiled, for what felt like the first time in a very long time, and then Dad picked him up and carried him back down, out into the world.

 

* * *

 

2.Graduation

The Watcher's Academy was much like every other school in the country, in most ways. The teachers spent a lot of time talking about the rest of their lives, but the students thought only as far as the next exam. Certainly most students being lectured about the quality of their A levels didn't hear quite so much about 'fate' and 'destiny', and only military training tended to contain quite as much about potential death, but teenagers were teenagers the world over. They studied so they could make the grade, and they welcomed every holiday.

Of course eventually the next exam was the final one, the grade of grades, the last ever test they'd take in an all Watcher environment before encountering the real world. Or escaping into it, as Rupert Giles devoutly hoped.

The Watcher Academy contained a few hundred boys whose idea of stimulating conversation was to talk about demonology. The rebels, the least responsible ones, devoted more of their time to quarterstaff and fencing. Sometimes on half days some of the boys would get together a game of cricket or rugby, but the place wasn't much for team sports. Just training, every single day. The library contained literature, but Sherlock Holmes was the closest it got to mere fiction. The radio was turned on only to listen to the news (which they were quizzed on, every morning). Television was a far off dream.

And of course, there was a total and deplorable lack of girls. The only mention of the female of the species was in the form of that distant and almost mythical figure, the Slayer, for whom they did all this.

Roll on university.

Despite everything, his continued boredom, his increasing doubt that Watching would ever be the life for him, Giles applied himself to swotting for his A levels with single minded devotion. The reason for this was simple. If he failed to make the expected grades there was a chance, however remote, that he might stay on to do resits. Stay here. At the Academy. As if the usual number of high school years were not enough, there was the remote threat of more. So he studied, because more than an evening off here and there he really wanted out.

And, thankfully, it paid off.

The day the results came out Rupert Giles was called in to his Father's office where, to Rupert's great relief, his Father sat beaming, holding the precious sheet of paper.

"Congratulations my boy. I knew you could do it. You're off to Oxford."

Rupert didn't bother restraining his grin. He could be proud about where he was going, he just couldn't admit to the relief about where he didn't have to be.

"That being the case, I've got something for you." Father said, and threw something at him.

Rupert caught it neatly, by reflex, quite surprised. It turned out to be a ring.

"Do you know what it means?"

Wonderful, another test. Well, he shouldn't have expected Father to stop being Father just because he wasn't a child any more. He looked at the ring carefully.

"No noticeable inscriptions. Very plain. Signet ring. You wear one a lot like it." Rupert said, glancing up at Father to see if he'd get any clues.

"Yes, I do."

No, he wouldn't.

"The stone is different though. Black instead of blue."

"You're a Capricorn, not a Taurus."

"Is it onyx?"

"Jet." Slight disapproval. Two black stones, but naturally Rupert was meant to know the difference. Still, once identified, it could tell him a lot.

"Fossilized wood, or a form of very hard coal. It comes mostly from Whitby. Jet and amber both become electrically charged when rubbed, and both have been found in prehistoric grave sites. Also used together in the necklaces of Wiccan high priestesses."

"In this case jet is used alone."

Great, now he was being marked down for too much information. Well if he had the slightest clue why Father was asking him... but he didn't, so he moved on.

"It has always been considered a very magical stone. Wearing it strengthens magical awareness. It is also protective, especially against unseen mischief, and has potency in counteracting magical spells and incantations. It helps drive off evil spirits and demoniac possession, and can act as an antidote to some poisons and magically implanted diseases. It dispels nightmares, evil thoughts and hallucinations." Which was the rest of the general textbook definition. There was a bit more in the Watcher specific version. "Since a Watcher must, first and always, distinguish between illusion and reality, and is liable to be magically attacked, jet is a very good stone for a Watcher to have. Is that why you're giving this to me?"

"In part. I mean you to wear this for a good long time. But you're not a Watcher yet. This ring has a meaning now."

Father slightly stressed the word ring, and Rupert tried to pick up on the cue. The trouble was rings had so very many meanings. Some things were basic to most of them. "Rings are also often protective. A magical guard that wards off negativity through its continuity. In a magical sense, wearing a ring 'binds' you with power."

"Continuity, yes. That would be part of it. But Rupert, does it really feel like a magical ring?"

He blushed, and checked it with the relevant senses. No, not really. Nothing empowering it beyond the essence of the materials. Just a plain, unmagical ring. Which made almost everything he had said so far be completely on the wrong track. Okay. What else could it be? "Rings serve essentially to display links and bonding... they serve as a means of recognition." Now Father looked a little more approving. "They may be signs of a covenant, vow, community or common fate. And yet as you have reminded me, I'm not a Watcher yet. And not every Watcher wears a ring like these. Some other community?"

"Excellent my boy. Yes. You got there in the end. This isn't a Watcher symbol, per se. Though those of us who wear these rings are often part of the Council, some pursue the same goals in other ways. We are a separate community. A society of equals. And many of them are my friends. I've been part of the group since my own Oxford days, so naturally when you picked a college I wanted to extend the same privilege to you. You see, my boy, university is not like the Academy. You will be constantly surrounded by people who have no idea of the way the worlds really are. You will have to hide, even from your closest friends. And yet you will not be a full Watcher, so the support of the Council will be... not that of a group of peers. You need people who know how the world really works, a place where you can be yourself. That is the purpose of our little club. It is, of course, another secret society, but only in that we all share secrets the unknowing wouldn't care to. Once you are a member, you'll have somewhere you can go, just to unwind, and really talk."

Rupert listened to all this with mounting horror, which he was careful not to let show on his face. A club? Full of friends of his Father? And of course he'd be expected to actually go there. Probably frequently. They were there for his 'support'. As if the Council wouldn't be keeping enough of an eye on his day and night work, now he was supposed to let these people watch him relax?

His posture and continued silence must have given something away. Father's smile began to falter slightly.

"Of course, this is just an invitation. If you don't want... I mean, if you have somewhere else in mind..."

Somewhere with decent music, and a place to dance, and maybe even some girls? Why would he ever want that?

And of course, if he didn't sign up, they'd still be there. At least if he joined he'd learn who it was he had to watch out for.

"Of course I'll join, Father. I'll be honoured. I was simply... surprised I'd never guessed before, that you had any allegiance beyond being a Watcher."

"Ah, well. You can't let the Council take your whole life. And believe me, my boy, they will try. Keep a little something for yourself and you'll be able to work that much harder."

Father imparted this sage advice with no apparent sense of irony.

"But of course you must remember that the Council comes first. Duty, then friends. Always."

Rupert had so far had a bit of a problem getting past duty. But Father was right about always. Every bloody day.

Rupert raised the ring and remembered something else from the textbook. 'The ambivalence of the symbol arises from the fact that rings simultaneously bind and isolate.' That didn't seem ambivalent to him right now. This little bit of chain he'd have to carry around seemed very binding. And also, as he tried to put it on, too tight.

"Not your ring finger, Rupert. Here, let me." Father took hold of the ring again and slid it on Rupert's little finger. "The smallest finger, to remind us that alone, we are weak. Yet, as part of society, we become strong." He clasped Rupert's hands and beamed, proud to be joined by his son.

Rupert tried very hard to return the feeling, and managed to smile.

***

 

Oxford was not what he had hoped.

There was more to learn, and his daytime studies were refreshing, surrounded as he was by people who had such a focus on the achievements of humanity. Of course that was because they didn't know there were other options, but it felt good learning about human history, unencumbered by demonic intervention and wars.

But then every night it was back to the occult. His life started to feel split down the middle. He had been warned, but going to school at the Academy had never felt like this. Holidays were for forgetting anyway, so being surrounded by the mundane had never bothered him before. And the club that his Father had so earnestly expected to help... Alright, they knew. Some of them were even Watchers, with a theoretical duty to help. Yet Oxford was full of students and scholars, and everything seemed to them to be academic. Rupert was preparing to spend his life fighting, and yet here it was all about papers. He even had to keep up his physical training in his (so copious) free time, and fencing was considered a recreation, not a necessary survival skill. The different pieces of his life drifted further apart by the day. And he still hadn't found how to keep any of it for himself.

Still, the advanced studies led to some fascinating stuff. Especially the practical magic class. In school, that was almost avoided. Every student could learn the theory, of course, but they had widely varying potential to apply it. And magic in the hands of the very young was considered an unnecessary risk. But now, in individual tutorials, Giles started to learn. It wasn't just spells, incantations, work out of books. It was the proper application of power. And it began to fascinate him.

He even put in some extra work in his free time. He gathered tools, and even started to make them. "To develop a banishing ritual, first acquire a magical weapon- a sword, a dagger, a wand, or perhaps a large ring." Well, that seemed simple enough. He looked at the signet ring on his left hand. "Guess you're going to be useful for something after all." So he learned to make it a shield, to draw power around himself that should turn other spells back.

The next time he went to the club, he sensed some vague disapproval. And then came a visit from Father. Just looking in, seeing how things were going. "Oh, Rupert. I know we never actually said so before, but the club ring isn't meant to be used in actual magic. The club is where we all go to get away from work, and for quite a few of us magic is work."

And that was the end of that. As far as Father knew.

By then, Rupert had almost attained his degree. His 21st birthday came and went, and of course there was some celebration, but on the whole nothing changed. Instead there was an air of expectation, of looking forward to his finals. And discussing what he would focus on for his Masters degree.

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. It was still all about the next exam.

One day, Rupert was hit by a realization. It always would be. He didn't have to get past this to the rest of his life- this was his life. All the rest of it would be about the next goal post, the next thing to be learned. And not what he wanted to learn. Oh, he'd chosen to specialize in history, archaeology, rather than for instance languages, but there'd never been the slightest possibility of him going into the arts. And now he was here, his options narrowed. He'd get the breadth of knowledge he needed to function as a Watcher, demons and vampires and Slayers and all, but he'd never have a choice outside of that.

If he kept on being what they wanted him to be.

Less than an hour later he was packed. After all, there was bugger all of this life he'd want to take with him. And an hour after that he was gone, out of Oxford, on the train to London and everything he could find for himself there.

But he stopped on the way to the station, down by the river. He took off the ring. Looked at it again. The little 'RG' he'd had inscribed in some attempt to make his mark on it. The letters just made him more part of it. Which he no longer had any intention to be.

He weighed it a moment, then drew his arm back and chucked it out as far as he could. It fell in the water with a barely noticeable splash. Gone. That simply.

***

London... was many things. A life, one he chose. Dark, cold, sometimes depressing, and something resembling free. Exhilarating. Exciting. Deadly.

 

He came back home feeling very sick, and very old.

***

Once he'd got over his immediate illness (for which the word 'withdrawal' was never used, not by his family), once he'd started to study and crawled enough the Watchers gave him some hope of eventually getting in, it was time to try back at Oxford again. God knew how many strings had to be pulled to make that even possible. But a lot of strings came together in the same place, if you knew how to look for them. The last place Father offered him again. The club.

"Rupert... I know that we must seem like a bunch of old men. And I know the younger members aren't all the sort that you seem to look for as a friend. But I think, I truly believe, that if you give them a chance they can be there for you."

Left unspoken was where Rupert had ended up, with his kind of friends. Perhaps a different sort really was a better idea.

"I-I'm afraid I threw away the ring." Rupert said weakly, his new stutter kicking in as it now always seemed to.

Father smiled, a little more confidently, and held out his hand. Inside, once again, was a ring.

Rupert picked it up. "A gift again?"

"Not exactly. I held it for you, while you were away."

He turned the ring around and looked within, and sure enough there were his initials. RG. And the whole thing felt familiar, felt like his, that he'd worn and worked on. Jet was said to soak up a piece of the wearer's soul. This then would be that old, discarded piece. Untainted by subsequent... things.

The ring was meant to be proof against possession. He tried not to dwell on that.

"We found it in the river, not long after you'd gone. Some of the boys thought you'd ended up there too. It will be a surprise to them to see you again."

No strain to read between the lines of that one- parental relief, after so long of not knowing.

"I must say I'm surprised you found this at all. I didn't expect to see it again. Except perhaps if I ate fish." Like Polycrates, who tried to sacrifice one precious thing to fortune, so it wouldn't take the rest... of course he got the ring back before the loss, so he at least was warned.

But this was meant not as warning, but promise. He could have it all back. The old things. Just give up hope of the new, or what he would have chosen for himself...

His choices were flawed. Deeply, permanently. And he had learned a lot about weakness.

He slid the ring on himself.

"I'll be glad to come back to the fold."

Father smiled sincerely, and Rupert copied him.

 

* * *

 

3.Grabbed

Levitation was the key to a lot of mischief, and a fairly steady income. They started with the fridge from the busy open showroom, but that hadn't turned out so well. Police at the door, a quick scramble over roof and fence and out the back way. Ethan needing somewhere else to stay.

Okay, so every cloud had a silver lining. Ethan moving in with Ripper was... rewarding.

But the financial fortune was in jewellery.

It was Ethan who found the place. Ripper didn't pay much attention to the stuff, but Ethan always had an eye for things that glittered. So when he stopped outside the jewellers Ripper just sighed tolerantly, and waited for him to move on. After all, it was late at night, so they couldn't be buying anything, and the grilles were on, so even if they hefted a brick at the window they wouldn't get anything. Plus, alarms. There didn't seem to be a way to get at the shiny things.

Trust Ethan to find the loophole in anything.

"Ripper, dear." Ethan called, holding his hand out to him, "I see something wonderful. Come here."

Ripper sighed, and took the proffered hand, allowing himself to be drawn forward until Ethan was wrapped in his arms. In truth it was no bad place to be. Pressed up behind Ethan, all kinds of possibilities. But, for right now, sex wasn't the first thing on Ethan's mind.

"Look," he said, then pointed. Apparently at the door. Then he called on their magic, drawing strength from Ripper and adding his expertise. Ripper looked around hurriedly, but the street was empty. Even if Ethan spelled the door from its hinges they'd have a minute to get away. But it wasn't exactly the door he intended to move. Just the letter box. With a wave of his hand he lifted both flaps, inside and out. So they could see straight through. "And there..." Ethan gestured to the display windows. There was a high backing between them and the shop inside, but there was also, around the top, a gap.

Ripper grinned. "Nice one." He concentrated his attention on the jewellery display and began to help focus the magic. "So, what first?"

"You choose." Ethan demurred, and leaned back into him. This wasn't the biggest magic they'd ever done, but every time they worked together it just felt better. Ripper got distracted by the feel of Ethan, in his arms and in his magic, and for a moment diverted the power to Ethan, brushing down his chest and up along his thighs.

But then the letter box dropped closed with a clack, and brought them back to what they were doing.

"Right then." Ripper said, and focused on the most expensive things. Diamonds, in gold rings, a whole tray of them. He considered picking the whole thing up at once, but he didn't know how firmly the things were held in their places. It wouldn't help to spill them all over the floor. So he picked one, a pretty thing with two large stones, and carefully pinched it up.

It shot in the air a couple of feet at once, and Ethan joined him just to keep it from hitting the ceiling. Power that was sufficient to drag a fridge around had an entirely different challenge with these very light pieces of metal. But the fridge thing had been a bit of a strain, especially on Ethan. He'd had migraines for days. This was better. And Ethan's idea. As they manoeuvred the thing over the barrier and round to the slot (separating their focus slightly to hold it open again) Ripper decided the first spoils should be for him.

"Here, for you." He said, the diamond ring hovering in front of them. Ethan held his hand up and together they slipped it on his ring finger. Ethan curled his hand closed and looked at the gems a moment, turning them to catch the light. Then he turned to face Ripper with a grin just as brilliant, and pulled him in for a kiss.

When they were done (which took some time) Ethan turned back to the display again. "Now, something for you."

"Nothing too showy. Not my kind of thing." Ripper specified, trying to avoid the word 'girly' since it was liable to get him no end of teasing.

Ethan switched his attention to the signet rings, and quickly found one to his liking. "Just the thing. Here..." They concentrated again, and this time was easier. The only hitch was when Ethan tried to use magic to put it on him. "Too small." He made a face, as it got stuck not half way up his ring finger.

"Don't worry. Here." Rupert pulled it off in more conventional fashion and put it on again, this time on his little finger. "Fits perfectly." Ethan grinned up at him and they kissed again, this time more quickly, then turned back to the store.

"Alright then..." Ethan once again took the lead, his touch with magic more deft, while Ripper let his strength flow in support. The rings rose one by one, but this time in convoy.

"Showing off?"

"If you've got it..." Ethan shrugged, the 'flaunt it' implied in dress and demeanour as much as daily action. And very soon Ethan had it. All of it he could fit in his pockets, until they were giggling and trying to sort unsightly bulges into better arrangements. Which got distracting fast, but now they had the loot they knew better than to hang around. They backed up as far as they could and still see, then used their minds to smash the window. That sounded the alarms, of course, but it also turned it into a much more mundane mystery. And they were well away before it got any attention anyway.

Back at the flat, Ethan made a little heap of all the precious, shiny things, and then picked them up by the handful and let them pour through his fingers. As a hoard, it wasn't much, and individually they were among the shop's cheapest pieces, but put together it was one nice night's work.

"Do we have to sell them?" Ethan pouted moodily, holding up one necklace of dubious taste but glittering flamboyance.

"Well we can't wear them. Not and be seen. The pigs might be stupid but even they can notice something that shiny, if you really wave it at them."

Ethan sighed and dropped it back into the pile. "But we keep the rings, right?" He asked, maybe a little anxiously. He held his hand up again and gazed at the gems there, his mouth turning up at one corner in a dreamy little grin.

"Yeah, that should be okay. As long as no one sees us with the rest of this stuff." Ripper looked again at his own ring. It was plain, and masculine, and made a nice memento of a night of really practical magic. "Did you see what the stone was?"

"Something black?" Ethan vaguely replied.

"Well I can see that, yes, thank you. I meant what kind of black. There are different properties."

"For magic, you mean? Let's see..." Ethan scrambled up and went to grab some of the books. "Correspondences... Gem and metal magic..." for each topic he pulled out a couple of books. Mostly of them were tattered paperbacks they'd recently acquired, but one was a big leather backed book, a Compendium of Correspondences. That one tried to tell you about the influence of all the planets, and what that did to the meanings of everything else. It was one of those texts that wasn't strictly magical in itself but made the technical parts of magic a lot easier. Of course lately they hadn't been much for that kind of technique, instead favouring the try it and see approach. More real, to Ripper. Easier, to Ethan, who despite a few years of trying to catch up still hadn't the grounding that got drummed into every Watcher at the Academy. So, Ethan had books, and loved Ripper's knowledge of them. But Ripper left the reading to Ethan. Like now.

"Gemstone properties... hmmm. Well, black 'often appears as the designation of darkness, primal chaos, and death.'"

"All good so far." Ripper told him, with one of his trademark grins. Ethan looked up over the book and returned a smirk.

"Black is the colour of the feminine principle, yin."

Maybe Ripper should have mentioned about 'girly' after all.

"Black stones are receptive. They represent the Earth and stability. Of course the band is gold, solar, projective, yang. So it ends up pretty balanced."

"So yours is unbalanced? Figures."

"Mine is easy to read. Diamonds are forever. And these are two brilliants..."

"Ethan Rayne, brilliant forever." Ripper rolled his eyes.

Ethan posed and preened. "Why thank you, my dear, so good of you to notice." He blew Ripper a kiss, then had a better idea and moved close enough to give him the real thing.

The book bumped between them as they kissed, so instead of it leading anywhere right then, Ethan turned around to lean against Ripper, and held it so they could both see.

"It could be hematite. 'Volcano spit', bleeds when you grind it, heals itself when scratched."

"I'm not going to scratch it, I just got it. Don't think it looks quite like hematite anyway."

"What about jet? That's a good one. 'Witch's Amber', akasha element. Said to absorb a piece of the wearer's soul."

"Let's hope not, then."

"It could be very powerful, magically. You'd just have to be careful who got their hands on it." Ethan said, running one finger along the band. Ripper wrapped their hands together to keep him still, then had to help hold the book.

"Reckon it's more likely to be something less magical, being in a regular jewellers."

"Okay... obsidian?"

"Good stuff. Very sharp. That would suit me."

"Says it has the same properties as flint. That's back the other way." Ethan wiggled his fingers to get his left hand free. Giles flipped forward a bit instead.

"Flint I know. Fire, sparks, cutting. That would work. But I reckon it's most likely onyx."

Ethan found the required page. "Interesting- there's supposed to be a demon trapped in it." Then he read on and made a face. "Sounds like a nasty one. 'Produces nightmares, brings discord and separates lovers.'"

"Can't allow that." Ripper assured him, nuzzling Ethan's neck.

"'Onyx is a protective stone worn when facing adversaries in battle or conflicts of all kinds- or while hurrying down a dark street at midnight. Also defence against magical attack.' Now that's a practical sort of stone. Oh. No, that would never do."

"What?"

"Causes sexual dysfunction." Turned a page and grinned wickedly. "Unless associated with diamond."

"You're making that up." Ripper grabbed the book and brought it within reading range (not something he tended to do around other people. Obviously, Ripper didn't need glasses). Then he laughed as he read exactly what it said. "Well then, the solution is clear." He pushed the book away and pulled Ethan close, pressing them together in all the right places. "I'm just going to have to keep you close."

"Well, it's a sacrifice, but I suppose if I must..." Ethan dissolved into giggles, and those into kisses, and the rest of the night did not involve books at all.

 

Time passed, and neither of them took off the rings. The jewellery thing turned out to be a nice little earner, though they quickly got bored of night time shopping. Much more fun to walk into a store and make a few small things fly out with you. Ethan acquired and got bored with a long string of shiny things, but he never got bored of that first diamond ring. He'd shown that off to everyone, right after he got it, and seemed to learn to pose so it caught the light. Ripper wasn't really fussed about his. It was polished, and dark, and made a fairly satisfying crunch if you hit people with it. He wore it like the leathers or the earring, one more piece of his new persona. His new self.

 

Then one night Ethan staggered in after going out alone, looking like he'd have been wiser heading for the hospital than home.

"Ethan! What happened?"

"Bloody muggers." Ethan said shakily, stepping away from the support of the door rather unsteadily. Ripper caught him and guided him into a chair, then went for the first aid supplies. Of course first aid consisted of some alcohol and a relatively clean t-shirt, but Watcher training worked on autopilot while Ripper worried.

"Are you okay? Is anything broken? I can drive us up the hospital..."

"No, no, no doctors. I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just bruises."

"And cuts. And your **hands**..."

"Will be fine. Just got mashed into the pavement. Some bastard stood on them while they took it."

"It?"

"The **ring**." Ethan said, almost sobbing. He'd been fine, mostly angry, but this got to him? Ripper couldn't figure it out. Ethan continued, "I tried not to let them. I gave them the money. I mean, who cares? We'll get more. But they wouldn't leave it be. I'm sorry."

"Ethan, don't be daft. Who cares? It's just a ring."

As soon as he said it Ripper realised he'd said something monumentally wrong. Ethan looked up at him with more hurt in his eyes than he'd had from his injuries. Like Ripper had pulled the ground out from under him. Why on earth..? Oh. Oh hell. The way Ethan had been about the ring, the sodding **engagement** ring, telling everyone 'Ripper got it for me'. He hadn't thought...

"I mean... I mean, it's just... a thing. It isn't..." Giles stuttered, trying to find words, and realised there was absolutely nothing he could say that would lead anywhere good. So he decided to fall back on their strengths. He leaned in and started to kiss Ethan, gently, but thoroughly. Pretty soon Ethan wasn't satisfied with gentle and it was all out, hands everywhere snogging, trying to reach right into each other. Then Ethan added a touch of magic, and Ripper responded in kind, the power not doing anything yet, just shared between. He pulled Ethan close, and Ethan gasped. Possibly not the good way. Ripper leaned back so he could see and said "You're okay?"

"I'm with you." Ethan replied fiercely. "I'm **brilliant**." Then he leaned in again and let the power flow, starting to shape it to their will, and they kissed again.

 

After, much later, Ethan played with Ripper's fingers, then brought his hand up and kissed his ring. "No diamonds to balance this out any more."

"And yet, no problems." Ripper smiled lazily, smug and still hungry. "Can't be onyx after all."

 

Of course with the way things turned out, he ended up deciding it really was.

 

Later, when he once again wore glasses and studied, a book came out that correlated stones to Tarot trumps. A square black stone was 'Folly' or 'The Devil'. Addiction, violence, lack of vision. Giles sighed, and looked down at his ring. How apropos. All the bitter symptoms of that time, everything he tried to leave behind. And yet, here he was a decade later, and he wore it still. Somehow he thought he always would. And the thought, oddly, was not unhappy.

 

* * *

 

4.Go Away

"Ethan, why don't you just leave me alone?" Giles asked somewhat plaintively.

"Because, Ripper, every time you tell me to, you're asking me to stay. Mixed messages, in everything you do. How can I believe you want me gone when we always end up here?"

'Here' being, by the end of the sentence, pressed together down the whole length of their bodies, in a way that could not be mistaken for innocent by even the most casual observer. In the stacks at the library where Rupert was doing research. And Ethan was right, in a way. Library, museum, or university, 'here' did seem to happen rather a lot.

Ethan grinned slowly, the ever more complicated mix of emotions in his eyes again, then started to lean in for a kiss.

"Mr Giles? Are you back there?" One of the librarians called from not far away.

Ethan paused for a moment, mischief in him, as ever. But he stepped away again.

"Ah, there you are. I'm not interrupting?"

Giles tried not to blush. The man only meant to refer to work, but his timing... was a bit of a godsend, actually.

"No, no. Not at all. I'm done here." He said, glaring for a split second at Ethan.

Ethan, for all his audacity, had always cooperated in this one thing. He didn't make a scene.

"I'll be back later." He said quietly, layered with promise, and left, as Giles was drawn back to his work.

 

'Later' was not, thankfully, that day, and Giles had time to think things over. Again.

The trouble was Ethan was not entirely wrong. Try as he might, once his former lover turned up again, Rupert's body remembered the good times, and wanted them. Fiercely.

But he had given up on letting his desires decide for him. Where Ethan went, trouble followed, and as one sworn to protect the world, that he could not abide, or ignore.

But neither, it seemed, could he avoid him. Wherever he went, sooner or later, Ethan found him.

Something had to be done. And if simply telling him wouldn't work, then perhaps it was time for more extreme measures. Perhaps including things he had left London with every intention of never doing again.

Once he got home, Giles dug out some of the carefully stored books on magic, and began to plan.

It could not, of course, involve demons. Or sacrifice. Or any kind of pact. And permanent marks were out of the question. That actually ruled out the vast majority of the larger magics. But the effect he was after wasn't actually large. He just wanted Ethan to not try and see him any more.

So. Invisibility.

Nothing grand. He didn't want to be completely translucent, for instance. That would make day to day life somewhat difficult. Even if it could be turned on at will, like Gyges ring, it still seemed a profligate use of power for so small a problem. And also, he hadn't the faintest idea how to do it. Which made it a lot less tempting.

A ring of a different sort, however, was well within his power. Something plain, something ordinary, something not worth noticing. Something that would disguise him in the same way. Just let eyes pass over him, let them see nothing worth noting.

That should be easy. He was more than half way there without magical assistance, after all.

For the purpose, the stone had to be black. And to do double duty he chose onyx. The books did warn it was dangerous to suppress sexual appetite, but they hadn't met Ethan. It was immeasurably more dangerous not to.

Gem magic didn't have to use a ring, of course. It could be an amulet, or simply carried in a pocket, if he didn't mind risking losing it. But rings had meanings that rough stones did not, and a language with which to send a message. He double-checked his books, then chose something that would fit his little finger. The components, magical and otherwise, were quite simply obtained, and he finished the spell that night. Simple as it was, he couldn't be sure of its efficacy, but it did make him feel better. He was at least trying.

Yet Ethan found him again first thing the next day.

He sat down opposite him at the cafe table, and Rupert sighed.

"Ripper."

"Ethan." Giles said heavily. "I see avoiding you works as well as always." He flexed his hand and his new ring caught the light.

"Is that what the spell is for?"

"For what it is for, it really doesn't help if you can see the spell."

"It's your magic, Ripper. I felt it so often I came to think of it as ours. I'd see it anywhere."

Giles held his hand up and made a fist. "You see it. Can you read it?"

Ethan concentrated, then smiled almost sadly. "Ordinary, normal, boring. You'll never be that to me, Ripper."

"The part I'd hoped you would finally notice is the part where I don't care. But the language of rings was social, not magical, so of course you wouldn't know it. Wearing it here means I'm simply not interested. Is that clear enough for you?"

He shook his head and grinned, greatly amused. "Mixed messages, as always."

"What do you mean?"

Ethan leaned in and shared the secret softly. "It can also mean you're queer."

 

* * *

 

5.Gleaming

Giles went in to Argos to buy his kitchen table, order numbers already in hand, a model of efficiency. Unfortunately the other shoppers weren't. He was left looking around while he waited. He idly checked the jewellery counter for watches, wondering if the one with a moon on the dial was just a pretty way of showing day and night or if it actually showed the phases. But then something caught his eye in the men's section. A signet ring, darkly gleaming. Gold band and a flat black onyx, starkly masculine. And cheap.

He liked it.

So he bought it.  


* * *

**Author's Note:**

> My first finished Buffyverse fanfic!


End file.
